


Critical Care

by HakuSaitoSan



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-06-07 16:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15223463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HakuSaitoSan/pseuds/HakuSaitoSan
Summary: Saito is injured, Souji is pissed, and a mystery needs to be solved.MODERN DAY AU





	1. If You Die....

“ **If you die, I’m going to kill you** , Hajime.”

The words, whispered into his ear so fiercely, made no sense to Saito. He struggled to comprehend their meaning, but his mind was not working properly. He couldn’t seem to focus. He knew something was wrong -terribly so- because he couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t speak. He could hear muffled speech -it seemed to be coming from too many directions at once- but he couldn’t make out much of what was being said. Were they talking to him? About him? Souji...Souji was speaking again, but it was far away this time, not next to Saito’s ear like before. Who was he speaking to?

“—looks bad—“

“—a lot of blood—“

“—his or—“

“—need to call—“

A long pause ensued and Saito strained to hear anything. He went over the bits of conversation he had heard. What looked bad? Who was bleeding? Was it him? Someone else? Who was being called? The thoughts whirling in his mind caused his head to ache. He needed to understand what was going on. Where was Souji?

“I need you to stay with us, Hajime. “

There! Souji’s voice was back in his ear. Who needed to stay? Was someone leaving? Saito didn’t understand.

“Souji, give them room!”

An order was barked from somewhere, the voice strong and commanding. Saito recognized it at once; Hijikata. Was Souji in trouble? Hurt? Had he overstepped with Hijikata...again? Saito’s thoughts were interrupted when he felt himself being rolled over and a hard board being placed behind him. He was being lifted and the weightlessness left him feeling nauseated. He tried to turn his head -he didn’t want to sully his clothing if he were ill- but he couldn’t move.

“Just relax,” he heard from above. It wasn’t a voice he recognized. Where was Souji? Hijikata? Who was this person? That was Saito’s last coherent thought as he lost consciousness.

* * *

Hijikata watched the paramedics lift the backboard, with Saito strapped securely in place, and settle it onto the waiting stretcher.  Souji stood only inches away from them, his eyes glued to Saito’s hand, gangling over the edge of the board, motionless and pale. One of the paramedics finally noticed and laid the hand gently over Saito’s abdomen before they hoisted the gurney and placed it in the back of the ambulance.

Souji climbed in behind the paramedic with a determined expression. When he caught Hijikata’s eye, he silently dared the man to tell him he couldn’t ride with Saito. Hijikata waved his hand, urging the driver on, knowing it would be futile to argue with Souji on the matter. He turned on his heel and moved briskly toward his SUV. As he followed behind the ambulance, Hijikata replayed the short conversation he’d had with the officers on-scene.

From what the two witnesses who had come forward told them, the vehicle that knocked Saitō’s bike into a tailspin had not even slowed once it hit him. One of the witnesses felt certain that the large sedan had actually sped up. It didn’t surprise Hijikata that one of his men would be targeted. In their line of work, it was hardly unexpected. But they had taken Saito by surprise. That did not happen often, and it made Hijikata wonder exactly  _who_  they might be up against.

He dogged the ambulance, never letting more than half a car length separate them as they raced toward the hospital. He was worried. He would never have admitted it in front of Souji; the younger man did  _not_  deal with stress well, especially when it involved the possibility of losing someone he was close to. But Hijikata had seen the look shared between the two paramedics. It didn’t bode well.

* * *

Souji kept close watch on the paramedic as he worked furiously to stabilize Hajime. Things had started going downhill only one block from the hospital, and the technician was going everything in his power to keep the injured man alive. Souji clenched and unclenched his fists, hating that he had to remain seated and out of the way. It made him feel helpless...useless.

“How much longer,” he called up to the driver?

“We’re here!”

The ambulance lurched to a stop and the driver hurried out, rounding to the back. He flung the doors open and Souji leaped to the ground and out of his way. Several white-coated people arrived as the stretcher was lowered to the ground, and Saito was whisked away with a flurry of activity surrounding him.

Souji started forward, intent on keeping Hajime in his sight, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder, bringing him up short. He brushed the hand away angrily.

“I’m going with him,” he seethed, not bothering to turn.

Hijikata sighed, but clasped his hand back on Souji’s shoulder, more firmly than before.

“You know you can’t follow...”

Yes he knew it. Dammit, of course he knew! But had had to keep trying, right? He spun to face Hijikata with fire in his eyes.

“Take your hands...”

“Toshi! Souji!” Kondo came up to them, out of breath, his face lined with worry. “How is he? What do we know?”

The two men disengaged, and Souji faced Kondo immediately.

“Not good, Kondo-san. They’re taking him into surgery...internal bleeding, they think. I need to get in there.”

“Souji, for the last time...” Hijikata began, but Kondo waved him down.

“Let’s go see what we can find out, ne?” Kondō said, ushering both men forward. “We can’t go into surgery, but we can get as close as they’ll let us.” They marched into the hospital, each with a braver face than he felt; each lost in his own thoughts.

They were told very little at first. It was to be expected, since the doctors hadn’t had time to see what was going on, but it was frustrating. As the minutes passed and the first hour rolled around, the last members of the team arrived. Looking out at the group, Hijikata wondered who had wakened Chizuru. She should be at home. Shaking his head, he chided himself. Of course, she would want to be here. She cared as much for Saito as the rest of them. He looked at her now, nestled between Nagakura and Harada, one small hand clasped tightly in each of theirs.

Heisuke sat next to Harada, his usually cheerful face devoid of expression as he kicked his heels against his seat and waited for news. Next to him, Shimada and Yamazaki sat in quiet conversation. It wasn’t hard to determine what they were discussing, the paleness of each face telling more than words could. Gen sat across from them, hands folded across his abdomen and eyes trained on the floor.

Hijikata turned his head finally to Kondo, who sat away from the others, his hands clasped tightly and hanging over his knees. His eyes followed Souji, who was pacing the floor like a caged animal; his expression so dark that the nurses scampered quickly out of the way as he turned and resumed his march in the other direction.

When a doctor came out and asked for the Saito party, Souji stopped and moved swiftly to stand next to Kondo. Kondo rose to his feet, searching the doctor’s face for any trace of news before it was spoken aloud. He felt more than saw Souji come up beside him.

“The surgery was a success. He’s in recovery now. I won’t say he’s completely out of the woods yet, but the prognosis is good.”

Relieved murmurs filled the room and Kondo grasped the doctor’s hand in a firm handshake. He smiled gratefully and started to thank the man, but Souji moved forward in that instant, grabbing the doctor’s attention.

“I want to see him.”

“Ah, well, he needs his....”

“I don’t care. I want to see him.”

The doctor looked from Souji to Kondo, trying to ignore the intense glare he was getting from the younger man.”

“Souji...” Kondo began, resting a placating hand on his shoulder.

“What will it hurt to let me see him?” Souji demanded petulantly. “I won’t  _disturb_  him.”

The doctor sighed. He understood. He had seen it many times. Someone nearly lost...saved. Of course they would want to verify it with their own eyes.

“You can have five minutes, no more. And only one person for now. Once he is more settled, we’ll set up regular visiting hours for him.”

* * *

Souji entered the room quietly, his eyes going immediately to Hajime’s face. He looked pale, more so than usual and Souji paused at the foot of his bed to soak in the fact that he was  _alive_. All the fear he had bottled up since he had first seen Hajime’s body crumpled in the middle of the highway hit him full force and he staggered as his knees nearly buckled.

He moved to the side of the bed and stared down at his best friend, watching his chest rise and fall, assuring himself that Hajime was truly still with them. He reached out a hand but paused when he noticed that it was shaking. Gritting his teeth, he clenched it into a fist. Anger, swift and all-encompassing, filled him. Whoever had done this —had hurt Hajime— had made the biggest mistake of their life. He would find them; that was a promise.

He sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. He reached out again and touched Hajime’s hand. It was cool, and Souji wrapped his fingers around Hajime’s in an attempt to share some of his own warmth.

“Hajime,” he whispered, knowing full well that he wouldn’t get a response, but hoping none-the-less.

Silence ensued and Souji leaned down, bringing his lips close to Hajime’s ear.

“I’ll find who did this.”

He stood and looked down at that face once again, slack with sleep. He studied Hajime’s features, and then released his hand as he turned toward the door. Just before he pushed it open, he called back over his shoulder.

“You better be glad you listened to me, Hajime-kun. I would never forgive you if you died on me.”


	2. Asking for Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saito gets drugged, Sannan gets his way....and other stuff.

Souji returned to the small private waiting room only to find Kondo’s seat empty. He scanned the room and spotted him in a quiet corner, speaking with the surgeon who had performed Saito’s operation. He made a move toward them, determined to hear what was being said, but Hijikata stepped in front of him and shook his head.

“Get out of my way,” Souji hissed, taking a step around Hijikata.

“Kondo-san asked us to wait here.”

Souji’s entire body tensed and he flicked his eyes to Kondo once more. At that moment, Kondo looked his way and beckoned him over with a worried frown. Souji moved toward him at once, tossing a smirk over his shoulder at Hijikata, who stood in stony silence with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Souji, how did he look?” Kondo asked the moment he reached his side.

“If I didn’t know better, I would have just thought he was sleeping.”

“Well, that’s good, right? It means he’s getting the rest he needs.”

Kondo’s hopeful tone checked any further comment Souji planned to make. Instead he nodded and smiled.

“So, Doc...you were telling Kondo-san about Hajime?” Souji prompted the surgeon.

The doctor, who had stopped speaking when Souji joined them, looked to Kondo.

“I’ll catch him up on what’s already been said. Please continue,” Kondo told him.

“Of course. Well, as I said, we’ve managed to stop the bleeding and his surgery was a success, but he isn’t out of the woods yet. Our biggest cause for concern is infection. Once he gets past these critical hours, there will be other hurdles; it will take time to heal. There will be physical therapy. He may need to speak with a psychiatrist or join a support group. Trauma of this magnitude can affect a person’s mental well-being just as strongly as the physical.”

Souji wanted to tell the man that he didn’t  _know_  Hajime; and that if he  _did_  need support of any kind, he had it already. But Kondo’s hand on his shoulder stilled his tongue.

“Thank you, Doctor. We will be sure to keep that in mind.”

The doctor nodded to Kondo, slid his gaze briefly to Souji and then took his leave. Kondo watched him go, and then turned to Souji with a slight smile.

“Let’s join the others,” he said, throwing an arm across the younger man’s shoulder.

As they drew closer to the group, everyone got to their feet and circled around Kondo, waiting to hear anything that would give them hope.

“The doctor gave as good a prognosis as he could, considering the extent of Hajime-kun’s injuries,” Kondo began, taking time to look each person in the eye. “That being said, his injuries  _are_...severe. His ankle was crushed —broken in three places—  and he has a compound fracture of his left leg. He dislocated his shoulder and has second-degree skin abrasions to that shoulder and his back. He has a concussion. His spleen ruptured.”

Kondo raised his hand as different voices rose with questions or concerned comments.

“He’s stable now, and they’ve stopped the bleeding. They’ve done all they can. The doctors think that, because Saito-kun was in peak physical condition, he has a better chance than most, but they worry about infection.”

“Do we know how this happened? Was Saito targeted?” Harada asked.

He stood behind Chizuru with a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, worry evident in her eyes, but his attention was on Kondo and Hijikata.

“Not here! We’ll talk about that at HQ,” Hijikata said abruptly. “Right now, Saito’s safety is our number one priority. Someone stays here until we get the bastard that did this. The rest of us are out in the field.”

“I’m staying,” Souji said immediately, his piercing gaze daring Hijikata to contradict him. To his surprise, Hijikata only nodded before he turned his attention to the others.

Kondo placed a hand on Souji’s shoulder and led him a few steps away before speaking.

“I know I can count on you to keep Saito-kun safe, Souji. We still don’t know if he was targeted or just in the wrong place at the wrong time, so be careful...and take care of yourself, too. No unnecessary risks, understood?”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Kondo-san.”

“I have all the faith in the world in you, Souji,” Kondo said with a smile.

She squeezed Souji’s shoulder and excused himself, rejoining the group. Souji stared after him for a moment and then made his way back to Saito’s room, quietly pushing open the door and slipping inside. He assumed Kondo-san had dealt with the hospitals rules on visitation, and if not, would do so before leaving. Though, to be honest, Souji didn’t care. He was staying with Hajime whether they approved it or not.

He looked around the room and found a swivel stood tucked under the open counter. He rolled it over to Hajime’s bedside, sat down, and studied the younger man in silence before pulling out his cellphone. He typed a quick message and pressed send, and then slid the phone into his back pocket again. There was nothing left to do now but wait —wait for Hajime to wake up, and wait for a reply to his text.

* * *

Saito’s first thought as he came to was that he felt....heavy, as if his veins were filled with cement instead of blood. But in the next instant, any thought at all fled from him as near-unbearable pain wracked his body and flooded his senses.

He struggled to open his eyes, or to call out...anything. He heard Souji speaking; he recognized his voice at once. It sounded distant, and Saito attempted to call out to him. A stranger’s voice —a female— sounded next to him and a hand touched his wrist. Saitō felt numbness creep through his entire body, sending the pain far away, relieving him of the agony that had encompassed him.

* * *

Souji called for the nurse the moment he heard the first low moan from Hajime. She arrived quickly and checked him over before administering his pain meds directly into his IV. He was out again in no time, and Souji resumed his vigil, watching Hajime’s chest rise and fall. Throughout the day, the same process was repeated three times; Saito would wake —never quite regaining full awareness— and Souji would call a nurse, who would then send the patient under once again. Souji checked his phone multiple times, waiting for a response to his text and when it finally came, he relaxed the slightest bit. Sannan was on his way.

Thirty minutes later, Kondo stopped by to relieve Souji, suggesting the younger man go home for a while or at least grab something to eat and some fresh air. Souji refused.

“I can eat here, Kondo-san. I want to be here when Hajime really wakes.”

“I know, and I understand. Just remember not to overdo it, Souji. We need you here and healthy.”

Kondo looked down at the sleeping form of Saito.

“We need you healthy, too, young man,” he said, squeezing Saito’s hand.

He straightened and made his way to the door, nearly bumping into Sannan as he entered the room.

“Sannan-kun!”

“Okita-kun messaged and requested I look at Saito-kun.”

Kondo raised a brow and then chuckled.

“Well, of course! Souji doesn’t trust just anybody, does he?” He turned his smile to Souji and then clapped Sannan lightly on the back. “Well, you take care of my boys. I know I’m leaving them both in good hands.”

Sannan gave Kondo a small smile and then moved across the room to the foot of Saito’s bed, flipping through the chart that hung there. Kondo shook his head, and left the room while Souji watched Sannan closely. He placed the chart back and moved to the side, reaching down to look under Saito’s eyelids.

“They have him pretty heavily sedated,” Sannan murmured.

“He wakes in a shitload of pain. Is it too much?”

“Not from what I’ve read on the chart; it’s a typical dosage. Saito-kun wouldn’t be pleased, however. He doesn’t care for medication. I believe I will request for him to have self-administered medications, instead.”

“He can’t administer anything yet, Sannan-san. Wouldn’t it be better to wait?”

“Not at all. Until Saito-kun can administer the medication himself, one of us will do it for him. That way, we can ensure he gets the proper dosage each time. There  a cap-off limit, so we can’t over dose. It will also cut down on any possibility of someone getting to him through his medications.”

“Makes sense,” Souji said, understanding dawning immediately. “You’ll have that set up before you leave?”

“Yes. I will also arrange for Todo-kun to stand guard at the door tonight.” Sannan raised his hand when Souji started to object. “You will need to sleep at some point, even if you stay. Todo-kun will be an added precaution.”

Souji reluctantly agreed, and Sannan left to take care of both items. Souji moved back to his stool beside the bed and waited. It was nearly thirty minutes before Sannan returned, tight-lipped with anger, a very nervous nurse on his heels. Sannan waved her toward the bed and Souji moved out of the way as she prepped Saito.

“They give you a hard time?” he asked Sannan quietly, eyebrow arched.

“They made an attempt,” Sannan replied, never taking his eyes off the nurse.

Souji chuckled, trying to imagine how  _that_  went down. Sannan wasn’t one to be argued with.

“There we are, Sannan-sensei. Would you like me to explain how to....”

“That will not be necessary, thank you. You may go,” Sannan interrupted and the nurse swiftly left the room.

He took several minutes to explain to Souji how the self-medication worked, how often he should be medicated, and how many pumps were suggested. Souji listened closely, even when Sannan repeated his instructions a second time and then challenged Souji to repeat it back. Satisfied when Souji was able to do so, Sannan took his leave, stating that Todo-kun would arrive before dark.

Saito slept through the remainder of the afternoon, even when Heisuke popped his head in to let Souji know he had arrived and chatted much more loudly than Souji thought he should have. It wasn’t until darkness had completely fallen that the indigo haired man slowly opened his eyes for the first time since his surgery.

At first, everything was a blur; pinpricks of light and shadow that had no substance. His body thrummed with a dull but constant pain. He tried to swallow, but his through felt so dry. Was he alone?  _Where_  was he? Why was it so hard to...think?

“Hajime-kun,” Souji murmured, his face coming into focus above Saito.

Saito tried to reply, but only managed a low moan.

“Thirsty?” Souji asked, and then carefully slid his hand behind Saito’s head and lifted it. He brought a cup to Saito’s lips and let him take a couple of small sips before settling him back on the pillow.

Souji sat on the stool and rolled as close to the bed as he could get. Saito glanced at him from the corner of his eye and sighed. He felt so tired. And the pain —where was it even coming from?— was staring to worsen.

“If you’re hurting, you only have to squeeze the button in your hand.”

“No,” Saito said in a hoarse whisper.

“Hnh, why not?”

“It...fogs my mind.”

“It makes you rest,” Souji argued, standing up and leaning over Saito. “Maybe that’s because you  _need_  to rest, ne, Hajime-kun?”

“No. I need...to think. What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No. I don’t think...” Saito stopped and furrowed his brow. “I was...on my bike?”

“Yes, and then?” Souji asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle it.

Saito closed his eyes and tried to remember. It hurt to think so much —to strain his mind so hard— but he wanted to remember.

“Hajime-kun,” Souji called quietly.

Saito opened his eyes and tried to look at him through the now-blinding pain.

“Do you remember what you always tell me when I’m being stubborn?” Souji continued, placing his hand over Saito’s. He felt the PCA pump and moved Saito’s finger over the button.

“W-what are you doing?”

“You always say ‘ **Asking for help doesn’t make you weak** ’, remember? Well, this medicine is  _your_  help. It isn’t a weakness to use it.”

Souji pressed the plunger once and Saito blinked.

“Souji...”

“Don’t worry. Sannan-san had them set the dosage up in three shots. You can’t over-medicate.”

He pressed the plunger again. Saito looked into his eyes, his own already clouding over. Souji pressed the plunger for the final dose.

“Get some rest, Hajime-kun,” he whispered. Saito closed his eyes and obeyed.


	3. Don't Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Souji and Hijikata have a spat....and stuff.

Hijikata pinched the bridge of his nose and attempted to ignore the headache that was growing more pronounced with each passing minute. Time was wasting, and he wanted to be out there looking for the son of a bitch who put Saito out of commission. He hated waiting. He glanced around the waiting room and watched Kondo pull Heisuke aside. Hijikata’s eyes moved past them to Harada as he guided Chizuru to one of the empty seats and gently forced her to sit.

Hijikata studied the girl for a moment, torn between demanding she go home and allowing her to help. She had earned the right to stay —had fought hard to prove herself— and she had succeeded. And yet, Hijikata was loath to send her out in the field. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was female, or even that she was so terribly young. No, it was because she was so damned trusting, assuming people spoke the truth because she spoke the truth. She was naïve and that made sending her out dangerous. He glanced back toward Kondo and saw that he was standing by himself, watching Hijikata with knowing eyes and a gentle smile. Kondo slowly made his way over to stand beside him.

“Toshi, I sent Heisuke-kun home to rest. I want him guarding Saito-kun’s door tonight.” He paused and then asked, “How would you like to proceed?”

Hijikata gave Kondo a sidelong glance before looking back over the sea of faces that had turned to watch them speak. He moved his eyes from one face to another as he considered his options. It was just like Kondo-san to hand him the reins and, though he would never admit it aloud, he appreciated the level of trust. He shook his head and gave himself a small, rueful smile; he was feeling far too sentimental all of a sudden.

“Kondo-san, I think you should head to the office. Take Gen-san and Yukimura. Look at Saito’s records and see if you can come up with a list of names —people who might have it out for him personally.” Hijikata turned to Chizuru as she rose and moved closer to the two men. “Yukimura, as reports come in, it will fall to you to keep that information organized and passed along. Gen-san can assist you if you need help.”

“Hai, Hijikata-san!” Chizuru said, squaring her shoulders.

Hijikata sighed inwardly and moved his attention to Gen. “Gen-san, call Sannan-san. Have him go over Saito’s computer with a fine tooth comb; search for any hidden or encrypted files.”

“Of course.”

Hijikata thought for moment before speaking to Kondo once more. “I know you aren’t crazy about doing this, but we’re going to need to use your ties with the police department to stay in the loop on this one.”

“I’ll do whatever needs to be done, Toshi. Now,” he added, turning to smile at Chizuru and Gen, “I suggest we head over there right away.” As the trio headed toward the exit, Kondo turned back, his eyes piercing Hijikata’s. “We will find who did this, Toshi. We won’t rest until we do!”

Hijikata nodded, a tight smile playing across his lips. He kept his eyes on Kondo until he disappeared through the door, followed silently by Chizuru and Gen. When they were gone, Hijikata turned and faced the remaining members of the team.

“Yamazaki, Shimada...take Saito’s apartment. Go over it top to bottom. Yamazaki, you handle his laptop. Report anything to HQ.”

“Sir!” Yamazaki gave a slight bow, and took his leave with Shimada.

“What about us?” Harada asked as he and Nagakura stepped forward.

“You’re with me,” Hijikata said. “We’re going back to the scene of the accident. There won’t be much left by way of evidence; I’m sure the police have had it sectioned off and cleaned up. But I want a fresh pair of eyes on the layout.”

“Didn’t I hear something about a witness?” Nagakura asked.

“Two, actually. We’ll have to wait on the reports, if Kondo can get them. His contact at the department should be able to do that easily enough.”

Satisfied with that, Nagakura nodded and the three men headed toward the parking lot.

* * *

Shiranui Kyo watched the police officers from a distance, a disdainful scowl on his face. He was more disgusted with himself than the moronic humans he watched scurrying across the asphalt like ants. His hesitation had caused him to lose the men he was tailing, and now he was stuck trying to piece together where they might have gone and why they had tried to kill this man, Saito.

He moved in closer, making sure to keep himself hidden. It wasn’t difficult--hiding from humans--they only saw what they expected to see. But he wasn’t taking any chances. After all, every once in a while, a human surprised him —noticed him when he was trying to go unseen.

The crowd was beginning to disperse and only the cops remained, along with a few die-hard gawkers. Shiranui mixed in with the latter group, peeking over the shoulder of a rather short, dumpy man who was snapping pictures with his cell phone. Shiranui rolled his eyes and nudged the man out of the way.

“Hey! Watch where you going, punk!” the man said, staggering to the side.

Shiranui ignored him, instead focusing on the large, black SUV pulling up next to the police sedan on the far side of the taped off area. Three men exited the vehicle, and Shiranui knew instantly that they weren’t officers. These men were something else entirely. He moved a bit closer and halted as three pairs of eyes swung his way immediately. Shiranui instantly turned to the picture-happy man behind him and shouted with feigned belligerence.

“What the hell, man? Quit your damn shoving!”

The man, flustered at being accused of something he didn’t do, spluttered angrily before shoving back into the crowd and disappearing from view. Shiranui chuckled and glanced back at the trio who were now walking the scene. He saw that he was no longer of interest to them and smiled, glad that his ruse worked — and bonus points for getting rid of the idiot with the camera.

He watched the men as they studied the roadway: a muscled buffoon, a pretty boy and...well, another pretty boy, but the scowl on that one’s face looked to be permanent. Even with those amethyst eyes, Shiranui was certain he wouldn’t be any fun. He turned his gaze back to the lanky red-head. The man was gorgeous and moved like a cat; like he was comfortable in his own skin. Shiranui grinned. This just got a bit more interesting. If he was going to have to deal with humans, he might as well make the most of it.

Putting on his best smile, Shiranui sauntered around the taped-off crime scene to get closer to the men. He made sure to leave his hands in sight, certain that his movements were already being tracked by at least one of the newcomers, if not all of them.

“Heeeeey,” he drawled, brightening his smile as he moved in closer to the red-head. “Did you catch the dudes that did it?”

Three pairs of eyes looked to him immediately —angry purple ones, shrewd blue ones, and thoughtful golden ones.

“You know something about what happened here?” Golden Eyes asked him, striding forward.

Shiranui let his gaze travel up the length of the man, not bothering to hide his interest. When he finally reached the face, Shiranui chuckled. Those eyes —at first widened in shock and then narrowed in suspicion— were so emotive! He loved it. He looked to the men behind pretty boy and found both were watching him. He flashed a grin and gave a small wave before focusing on Golden Eyes once again.

“I might,” he drawled, “but I don’t think it was what you would call an accident.”             

“Is that so? Were you here? Did you see it go down? What makes you think it wasn’t an accident?”

“Woah, slow down man. I’ll answer your questions...if you answer mine. What’s your name?” After a brief silence during which Shiranui was scrutinized through narrowed eyes, he finally received a response.

“Harada,” was the clipped answer. “No games, you hear? What do you know? Did you see what happened?”

“Shiranui...remember the name, ne? And yeah, I was here. I was behind the car that hit the bike. It didn’t slow down,” Shiranui said with a shrug. “I think it might have even sped up.”

Harada watched Shiranui carefully, trying to determine what was setting warning bells off in his head. For one thing, Shiranui looked out of place here —skin-tight black jeans, a mesh top that did little to protect him from the cold, boots and belt covered in silver studs. He had to be some sort of entertainer —either a dancer from one of the nearby bars, or a prostitute. That latter didn’t seem quite right, at least not for this section of the city. He was too clean.

“You liking what you see?” Shiranui asked, an eyebrow raised and a definite smirk on his lips.

“Hardly,” Harada responded. Perhaps he was wrong about the prostitution. “Wait here a minute,” he added before turning and jogging toward Hijikata and Nagakura.

“What the hell does he want?” Hijikata asked the moment Harada was near.

“He saw the whole thing...so he claims.”

“You don’t believe him?” Nagakura asked.

“I don’t know. There’s something off about him, but I can’t really pinpoint it. Maybe he’s just an odd duck."

“Mnm...get what information you can. We’ll decide what’s worth keeping later.”

Harada nodded and moved back toward Shiranui, trying to analyze what bothered him about the man. It was more than his look, though that was pretty memorable. It was his attitude. He was far too aloof. He frowned at Shiranui as the man grinned at him almost predatorily. Harada was beginning to feel like the women Shin went after.

“Alright...Shiranui, was it? Why don’t you follow me? I have some questions I’d like to ask.”

* * *

Souji sat on the stool next to Saito’s bed and, for the first time in a very long while, second-guessed himself. Of course, he wouldn’t even be considering a fault in his choices if Hijikata-san had bothered to reply to even  _one_  of the numerous texts Souji had sent his way, asking for updates on what they had found out, if anything. But he hadn’t responded, and now Souji questioned his decision to stay behind and leave the investigation to the others.

Frustrated, he surged to his feet and paced the length of the room. A glance at the clock on the wall told him two hours had passed since anybody had contacted him. He dug the phone out of his back pocket and punched in Kondo-san’s number.

“Souji! Is everything alright? Has something happened to Saito-kun?” Kondo asked immediately.

“No, no, nothing like that. Hajime-kun is sleeping. I was hoping to get an update, Kondo-san. Hijikata-san hasn’t returned any of my calls.”

“Ah, I see. Toshi is probably busy, then. I’m sure he will let us know the moment he finds anything. I’ll call you the moment I hear something.”

Souji muttered under his breath —a small jibe at Hijikata— but kept the comment to himself. Kondo-san wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment. He spoke for a few more minutes, then said his goodbyes and hung up. He tucked the phone back in his pocket and resumed his pacing. He hated staying still when there was so much to be done. He glanced over to Saito, who slept on, oblivious to the world around him. Souji moved back to his stool and sat, his eyes scouring Saito’s face for any trace of pain.

“Hajime-kun, I wish you could tell us what happened here. That would save us a lot of trouble, you know?” Saito was so pale —more so than usual. Seeing him like that reminded Souji of why he had stayed at the hospital in the first place. He reached up and swept a lock of hair off of Saito’s forehead.

Ove the past year, Souji had begun to realize that his feelings for Hajime Saito had grown into something...more. He no longer thought of him as a best friend, though he wasn’t clear about how he  _did_  feel for the man. He was fairly certain Saito’s feelings had changed as well, but to what? And to what end?

His thoughts were interrupted by the pinging of his cell. He took it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. Hijikata had finally sent a message. Souji opened it with a slight sneer, certain that Kondo-san had contacted him.

He read the message and scoffed aloud.

H: I told you I would let you know if I learned anything.

S: What’s the matter? Did Kondo-san call you?

H: You know damn well he did. That was what you wanted, wasn’t it?

S: You should have answered my texts. So what have you learned?

H: Not a damn thing. Harada might have something. He’s talking to a possible witness now.

S: Is that so?

H: Guy doesn’t seem very reliable. We’ll have to see.

S: I want to be kept in the loop.

H: You will be.

S: I haven’t been so far. Not until Kondo-san stepped in.

H: That’s bullshit! I think I told you I would let you know what we found out. And we’ve found nothing.

S: Yeah yeah. Don’t think too much. You’re going to give yourself a headache.

Chuckling to himself, Souji put the phone away and leaned forward, resting his elbows on Saito’s bed. He considered contacting Harada, but decided to wait. Not for long, though. He would give him time to question this witness first. Shouldn’t take more than an hour. Then Souji would find out what was learned. Until then, he’d keep Hajime-kun company.


	4. Now That's an Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harada and Shirnaui chitchat. Amagiri and Kazama hit the scene....

Harada led Shiranui past the police cruisers, away from prying eyes and ears of the small crowd still gathered at the scene of the accident. He motioned toward the bumper and Shiranui sat, patting the space next to him with a wolfish smirk. Folding his arms across his chest, Harada ignored the gesture and gave Shiranui a level stare.

“Look, I get that you’re a bit...eccentric...and that’s fine. By all mean, be yourself. But I don’t have time for games right now. I need to know what you know.”

Shiranui shifted on his perch and cocked his head to the side. He narrowed his eyes and scrutinized Harada’s face before speaking.

“You ain’t a cop. Why should I? Why’s it so important to you and your buddies?” he asked, jerking his thumb toward the chaos behind him.

Harada’s gut reaction was to tell the brazen man it was none of his business, but he took a couple of slow breaths to bring his rising temper under control. Shiranui was watching him, his eyes dancing with curiosity. Harada decided the best way to get answers was to respond as truthfully as he dared with the stranger.

“The victim is...a close friend.”

“He survived?” Shiranui asked in surprise.

“Barely. So now you know why we’re here. Can we move it along?” Harada prodded, his patience at an end.

“Yeah, yeah. Ask your questions. I’ll be good.”

Shiranui placed his hands behind his head and leaned back against the SUV’s hatch. Harada studied him for a brief moment, his expression hooded. The man before him exuded nonchalance, but there was a sharpness about him that told Harada not to underestimate him.

“You said you didn’t think the hit was accidental, that right?”

“It wasn’t an accident. Pretty sure it was deliberate. What did your man do, anyway? ‘Cause the dudes gunning for him wouldn’t be after him for chasing skirts. You get me?” Shiranui quirked a brow and waited for a response.

“You know the people who did this?” Harada asked.

“Not  _personally_. I know  _of_  them.”

“I need names, addresses, anything you can give me,” Harada rushed, pulling a small notebook from his pocket.

“Whoa, I ain’t giving you that for nothin’. What’s in it for me?”

Harada froze, scowling down into violet eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I  _mean_  I want something from  _you_.” Shiranui smirked as he reached forward to poke Harada’s chest. “Can I be any clearer?”

Caught by surprise, Harada blinked before blurting, “What?!”

“You heard me. What do  _I_  get?”

“You get to know you’re a decent human being.”

Shiranui laughed. “Fuck that, man. I’m  _anything_  but decent. Take me to dinner.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Awww, why not? I’m a good lookin’ guy.” Waggling his eyebrows, Shiranui leaned forward suddenly, causing Harada to take a quick step backward. “Alright, make you a deal, pretty boy. Buy me a coffee while I spill my guts, eh? It’s cold out here.”

“This isn’t a game,” Harada spat out angrily. “You can’t just....”

“Whoa, whoooooa. Calm the fuck down. Look, I have information. I’m cold. If you want me to chitchat, then take me over to that coffee shop. How damn difficult is that?”

Harada narrowed his gaze, not trusting the man at all. But what did he have to gain by ignoring the small request? Nothing. And by complying, he might get some decent information. He ground his teeth together and glanced over to where Hijikata-san and Shin were talking with the police officers on scene.

“Fine, wait here,” he relented. Trotting over to his comrades, Harada beckoned Shin away from the others.

“What’s up?” Shin asked, coming up next to Harada. “That guy going to be any help?”

“He’s a little....odd. I’m taking him over to that coffee shop to get his story.”

Shinpachi arched a brow. “What for? Can’t he answer questions here?”

“I’m sure he  _could_ ,” Harada said with a sigh. “The problem is he  _won’t_.”

“Seems a bit sketchy. Think he’s playing us?” Shin asked, scratching his chin.

“I think he  _wants_  to play,” Harada muttered under his breath. Shin shot him a curious look, but Harada waved him off. “Never mind. Just let Hijikata-san know. I won’t be long.”

After getting Shinpachi to agree, Harada made his way slowly back to Shiranui. The flamboyant man was settled against the SUV, his eyes closed, and arms folded across his chest. He opened one eye as Harada approached and lifted a brow.

“We good?” he asked, sitting up quickly.

“Yeah, let’s go. And this information had better be top-notch.”

Shiranui chuckled. “Everything I do is top-notch, sexy.”

Harada rolled his eyes and motioned for the other to start walking. Strutting forward, Shiranui complied, reaching the coffee shop in short notice. He tossed a smirk over his shoulder as he slid into a booth near the back of the small establishment.

“I’ll take something strong; no foam shit.”

Scoffing at the demand, Harada went to the counter and placed an order for two coffees, black. He brought the cups to the table and set Shiranui’s drink before him, expecting some type of retort about the unadorned beverage. Surprisingly, there was none. Instead, the dark-haired man took a sip of his drink and then scooted over to make room on his side of the booth for Harada. Completely ignoring the offer, Harada sat on the opposite side of the table and tapped his finger on his mug, waiting for Shiranui to keep up his end of the bargain.

“Look, I’m going to be blunt,” Shiranui began, looking over the menu that was stuck between the condiments and napkins on the table. “I don’t know why these guys targeted your man. No clue about that. But I have no doubt the he  _was_  targeted.” He broke off long enough to wave a server over, order a rather large breakfast in Harada’s opinion, and ask to put it on one ticket.

“You realize I never agreed to buy you breakfast.”

Shiranui grinned and gave a half-shrug. “I knew you wouldn’t mind. Trust me, my information — not to mention my company— will be worth a tiny bit of food.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that? So far, I haven’t heard anything worth a glass of  _water_ , let alone a full meal.”

“Fine, fine. Ask your questions,” Shiranui relented with a bored expression.

“You said you knew the men who did this to Saito. Who are they? What’s their line of business?”

“Two men...well, one is more a boy than a man. Yukimura, though the kid goes by another name.”

“Yukimura?!” Harada asked, leaning in.

“Yeah, you know the name?”

“I might. Go on....”

“Kōdō Yukimura is an entrepreneur, though most of his ties are shady. His biggest connection to the city is Kazama Corporation. Ever hear of  _that_ one?” Shiranui asked, raising a brow.

Harada let out a small hiss at the name. “Shit. Fucking Chikage Kazama. Why am I not surprised?”

“So you  _do_  know his highness, then. Well, compared to Kōdō and his sidekick, Kazama is a peach.”

“Shit,” Harada repeated, sitting back and whipping out his phone. “Give me a second.” He punched out a quick message to Hijikata and then slid the phone back into his pocket, Shiranui’s eyes on him the whole time.

“What connection do you have to Kazama?” he asked frankly.

Harada glanced over to the server who was bringing a tray laden with breakfast foods. Once he placed it in the center of the table and walked away, the red-head answered the question, though evasively.

“We’ve dealt with him before.”

Shiranui shrugged and dug into the meal, offering a forkful of egg to Harada.

“No, thanks. You enjoy yourself. Before I go, I have one more question for you.”

“Shoot,” came the mumbled reply behind a mouth full of frittata.

“Where can we find this Kōdō Yukimura? And who is his partner?”

“That’s two questions,” Shiranui pointed out, taking a sip of coffee. “But I guess I’ll let that slide,” he added quickly at Harada’s muttered curse. “Kōdō Yukimura is a pretty well-known cosmetic surgeon. Well, he’s known in certain circles....get me? His nephew, Kaoru Nagumo, is just bat-shit crazy. Kid even gives me the creeps and I’m pretty open-minded about insanity.”

“And where do I find them?” Harada prodded, watching the man take another forkful of food.

“Not sure about that. They move around a lot. But I can guarantee you that Kazama will have a way to reach him. Want me to get that info for you?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Harada gave him a suspicious look. “Just how close are you to Kazama?”

“What? Jealous, handsome?” Shiranui teased.

“Hardly. And your association with Kazama makes you even more questionable.”

Laughing, Shiranui leaned in and looked at Harada through his lashes. “You have nothing to worry about there. I have no love for Kazama. Our families know one another, nothing more. And I don’t hang out with the family  _or_  Kazama, so you have nothing to fret about. Now, do you want the information or not?”

Narrowing his gaze, Harada considered the suggestion. “What’s it going to cost me?” he finally asked.

“Oh, you’re a quick study!” Shiranui quipped, grinning. “Dinner. And not at some dump. I want a full-fledged, sit-down restaurant with a wine list and....caviar and shit.”

“No way. I can’t afford that crap. I’ll take you to a decent restaurant, no funny shit involved. You eat, you leave. Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll  _take_  it! Trust me, handsome, you’ll come around.” He stood up and moved toward the door, stopping when he was standing right next to Harada. “Don’t go looking for Kōdō Yukimura without me. You’ll just get yourself killed and wouldn’t that be a waste.”

With that, he exited the small shop and disappeared around the corner. Harada sat there staring after him, not quite certain what had just happened. He had a.... _date_? What the hell?

***

Chikage Kazama watched Kōdō Yukimura close the door behind him on his way out. He moved from his desk to the window and gazed out across the deserted parking lot, lost in thought. The information Kōdō had brought was less than ideal. Having to deal with the man in the first place was not something Kazama had wanted, but in his business, he didn’t always have a choice in who he partnered up with.

Kōdō Yukimura’s one saving grace was his niece. If putting up with Kōdō meant getting close to Chizuru, then Kazama would suffer the man for a bit longer. Kaoru, on the hand, was a liability Kazama wasn’t ready to handle. He had been blunt with Kōdō today, and he only hoped he hadn’t ostracized the man by letting him know Kaoru was unwelcome.

Glancing to his left, Kazama watched as Amagiri poured a small amount of sake from the decanter and brought it over. He accepted the drink without a word, not that Amagiri would have expected thanks. It was his duty, after all, to keep Kazama comfortable. After taking a couple of sips, he moved away from the window and sat at his desk.

“I know that look, Amagiri. Working with Kōdō Yukimura has your moral compass spinning out of control, I take it.”

“He is not an honorable man. He will deceive and betray you if it gets him what he wants. But you know this, so why is he here?”

“You know  _why_. I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you.”

“Chizuru Yukimura-sama has already refused your pursuit of her. Working with the uncle she no longer associates with will not change her mind.”

Kazama glared up at his attendant. “You are mistaken in this, Amagiri. Chizuru would not deny her family. I’m certain those...ruffians she works with have had something to do with her attitude. Once we get her away from them, she’ll change her tune.”

Amagiri made a noncommittal noise and walked to the door. “With the young operative out of commission, the others will be focused on finding justice for him. They will not be as watchful of Yukimura-sama. If that is your wish, then now would be the time to act.”

“Hmn, yes,  **now that’s an idea**. Give me the day, and I’ll come up with a plan of action.”

Amagiri bowed and left the room, leaving Kazama smiling as he brought the sake to his lips. Chizuru Yukimura would be his. Of that, he was certain.


	5. A Blaze of Glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somebody is after Saito, but it ain't happening on Souji's watch....

The long, silver car pulled up next to a weathered apartment building, and Amagiri stepped out from behind the wheel with a heavy sigh. He believed showing up at Yukimura’s home without an announcement was both disrespectful and a mistake, but Kazama was in one of his moods and wouldn’t listen to reason. Stepping around to the passenger’s side of the vehicle, Amagiri opened the door for his boss.

“I know that look, Amagiri. Your objection to this has been noted,” Kazama said indifferently. He brushed off the non-existent dust from his clothing and strode forward, Amagiri trailing close behind.

“Noted, yet ignored,” Amagiri continued, his voice low and full of displeasure.

“Not ignored. I simply disagree with your opinion.”

With a shake of his head, Amagiri opted to remain silent as he followed the blonde into the lobby. They moved to the elevator as one, and Kazama waited for Amagiri to select the correct button before relaxing against the far wall.

“She will see reason if I can speak with her alone. Those fools always interfere with her decision, so this is the best solution. I don’t understand why you can’t see that.”

“I do not believe those…. _fools_...have been as persuasive as you think. Yukimura has a mind of her own.”

“Tch. Of course she does. I wouldn’t want a stupid woman. However, she is easily swayed. Therefore, I will convince her that a life with me would be best all around, and that will be that.”

The men grew silent as the elevator doors opened up on Chizuru’s floor. They made their way down the brightly lit corridor until they came to her residence. Kazama rapped sharply twice and then stood back to wait, his foot tapping out his impatience. When there was no response, he repeated the action once more, louder.

“Where could she be? She should have arrived home by this time.”

Amagiri gave a slight shrug. “She most likely wished to stay and assist her comrades.”

“Why would they allow that?! It’s obvious that at least one of them has been targeted. Why would they put her in harm’s way? The _fools_...they don’t deserve a woman like Chizuru. They don’t even know what she is!”

“That is for the best. Were they to discover the truth about her…” Amagiri paused, letting his meaning sink in. When Kazama remained silent, he moved on. “Shall we wait for her?”

Kazama considered the question but shook his head. “No, there is no way of knowing when she will return and I refuse to stand and wait in this corridor. If she refuses to come here, then I will go to her. But first, I will leave a message. We may miss her in passing.”

Amagiri quickly drew out pen and paper from his jacket pocket and passed it to Kazama, who scratched out a note. Sliding it under Chizuru’s door, Kazama gave one final look before he turned and beckoned to Amagiri. The men exited the building and drove away, one relieved, the other aggravated.

* * *

Chizuru pushed the folder she had been searching through aside and rubbed her eyes before standing to stretch her sore muscles. Sitting at the work table next to her, Gen looked up and smiled gently.

“You should go home now, Yukimura. There is little else to be done. We can start again with fresh eyes tomorrow morning.”

Chizuru started to object, but a yawn interrupted her words and she blushed furiously.

“I’m so sorry, Gen-san. I didn’t realize how tired I was!”

With a chuckle, Gen rose to his feet and patted the young woman on the shoulder. “No need to apologize. I’m feeling a bit fatigued myself.”

They turned in unison to Kondo, who was sitting at the far end of the table with Sannan, both men staring intently at a computer monitor.

“Isami-san, Sannan-kun, I’m going to take Yukimura-kun home now.”

Kondo looked up with a smile and nodded. Sannan either didn’t hear or didn’t feel obligated to respond. He kept his eyes on the screen before him, his features pinched as he read from whatever file he was working on.

Giving a small shake of his head, Gen turned to Chizuru and nodded toward the door. “Did you need to go anywhere before I drop you off?” he asked her.

“No, thank you. Home is fine. I appreciate your taking the time, Gen-san!”

They walked down the long corridor toward the elevators, and just as Gen reached out to press the call button, the doors slid open. Chizuru took one look, flinched, and stepped backward.

“Kazama-san, Amagiri-san! What are you doing here?”

“That’s no way to welcome someone, Chizuru,” Kazama scolded, his cold eyes falling on Gen as he spoke.

“Perhaps that is because you aren’t welcome,” Gen stated, moving in front of Chizuru.

Scoffing at the comment, Kazama let his eyes slide to the young woman who peeked out from behind Gen. “Chizuru, I would like to speak to you.... alone.”

Gen bristled and firmed his stance. “I will not be leaving Yukimura’s side.”

“It’s not as if I plan on kidnapping her,” Kazama said heatedly.

“Are you quite certain about that?” Gen snapped back, his eyes flashing.

“I-it’s okay, Gen-san. I thank you very much, but… I will at least hear Kazama-san out.” Chizuru stepped out from behind Gen, squared her shoulders and looked Kazama in the eye.

“Allow me to offer you a ride home, Chizuru,” Kazama said. “We can speak on the way.”

Chizuru hesitated, her bravery quickly slipping away at the thought of spending an unknown amount of time in close quarters with Chikage Kazama. She felt more than saw Gen stiffen at her side and knew that he felt the same. Glancing over Kazama’s shoulder to Amagiri, Chizuru sucked in a deep breath. While the large man was intimidating, he had always stepped in once Chizuru let Kazama know her feelings. Chizuru felt she could trust him…to a point.

“Thank you for your offer, Kazama-san. I accept.” Gen frowned at her comment but did not intercede. When Chizuru entered the elevator with the two businessmen, she gave a quick smile and a wave to the kindly older man. “I’ll see you in the morning, Gen-san!”

The doors slid closed and Chizuru gulped at the sudden overwhelming silence that filled the cramped space. Shuffled between two large, daunting men, she felt much smaller than she had in a very long time. Stamping her foot to clamp down on the panic she felt rising within her, she stole a quick glance up at Kazama. He kept his eyes fixed on the doors, his body held rigid and unforgiving.

Sweeping a look at Amagiri on her other side, she was startled to find his eyes on hers. She let a small gasp escape her, drawing Kazama’s attention.

“He won’t bite.”

Chizuru fidgeted as Amagiri attempted to repress a long-suffering sigh. Relief washed over her when the elevator doors finally opened and Kazama stepped out into the garage. He turned to face her, waiting for her to do the same and she smiled, hoping to keep everyone civil. Amagiri was the last to exit, and the trio walked quickly to Kazama’s Rolls Royce.

Settling into the front seat felt awkward to Chizuru, but both men had insisted, so she had stopped objecting. Instead, she slid as close to the door as possible and rode to her home in silence.

* * *

Yamazaki leaned in and listened carefully as he pressed the metal pin into the locking mechanism of Saito’s apartment door. A satisfied grin touched his lips when he heard the click of the lock releasing. Slipping the tool back into the narrow pouch hanging from his belt, he studiously ignored the raised brow he knew Shimada was aiming his way and advanced slowly into the small, neat entryway.

Something caused the hairs on his neck to stand on end, and he held up a hand immediately. Shimada took a faltering step and then paused, looking to the younger man questioningly. Yamazaki shook his head; he couldn’t pinpoint what had triggered his warning bells, but he had learned to trust his instincts. With a motion of his hand, he crept forward with Shimada on his heels, going from room to room to ensure that the place was empty. The further into the apartment they went, the more troubled Yamazaki became.

“Someone has been here,” he muttered quietly.

“Oh?”

“Saito-san is _very_ organized. These,” he said, pointing toward a stack of papers on the coffee table, “and these”, he added, waving a hand toward a set of upended books on the shelf, “are out of place. I believe Saito-san’s apartment has been searched.”

“I see. Then we should try to find out what they were looking for,” Shimada said, his eyes thoughtful as he scanned the living area. “Have you been here often enough to note what’s missing?”

“Yes, I believe so.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out a pair of latex gloves, and moved to the corner of the living room where Saito had set up a makeshift home office.

A leather attaché case and a laptop lay on the desk. Handing the portfolio to Shimada, Yamazaki took the computer and sat on the couch. Powering it up, Yamazaki considered the options for passwords he knew Saito would have in place. While the other team members were a bit easier to read, Saito’s use of logic when he chose his passwords made guesswork rather difficult. Instead of wasting time, Yamazaki pulled a miniature flash drive from his pocket and inserted it into the laptop’s USB port.  With a few quick clicks on the keyboard, a program filled the screen and Yamazaki began entering information. A moment later, he had gained access to the hard drive. Smiling in contentment, he sat back and began the long process of scanning the different folders.

The minutes stretched into first one hour and then a second. Finally, Shimada broke the silence.

“Yamazaki-kun, I may have something here.”

Closing the laptop with a disgruntled sigh, Yamazaki glanced over at his friend. Shimada held out a small scrap of paper, and Yamazaki held it carefully between his fingers. There was very little to see; a partial name and three digits that _could_ be the end of a phone number or a license plate. Yamazaki wasn’t sure, but he did know Saito’s neat, practiced script.

“...gumo, 428. It could be anything. Where did you find it?” he asked, his brow furrowed as he studied the paper.

Shimada ambled over to the desk and pulled a worn book from the shelf. He handed it to his partner with a slight shrug. “I watch a lot of crime shows,” he explained self-consciously. “The name caught my eye.”

Without a word, Yamazaki took the proffered novel and glanced at the title. _Without a Trace: The True Story of a Vanished Crime Lord_.

* * *

The door to Saito’s hospital room slid open without a sound, and an intruder stepped inside. Okita sat in a chair next to Saito, hunched forward with his head resting on the edge of the bed. Both men were sound asleep.

Creeping closer, Kaoru Nagumo placed a hand inside the pocket of the lab coat he had confiscated on the way in, and pulled out a hypodermic needle. He would take care of Okita first. Saito was in no condition to fight back and therefore not a threat. Okita, however…

Kaoru reached the bed without making a sound, and lifted the needle to Okita’s neck. Just as he was about to push the plunger, when the man he was attempting to subdue whirled in his seat, his eyes glittering like ice.

“You have ten seconds to back away or I _will_ kill you,” Souji hissed, holding up a small pistol. Kaoru assumed it must have been lying on the bed next to him. “Did you think I couldn’t hear you, you little shit. Who the fuck are you?”

Kaoru smiled and let his eyes slide over to Saito before speaking. “I’ve come to kill you, of course. And your friend there. Actually, _you_ are just collateral damage.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

He watched as Okita sprung from his seat and reached for him, but Kaoru was too quick. While Okita spun on his heel to look for him, Kaoru moved to the  other side of Saito’s bed. He slipped the lid off the syringe and placed the needle into the IV’s injection cap in Saito’s arm. He was about to push the plunger when he heard a wild yell and felt a stinging pain run up his entire arm. He dropped the needle and spun around, but it was too late. Okita was on him.

He could feel the blows as they landed, and though he wasn’t fearful of death, the pain was nearly overwhelming.

“Souji,” Saito’s hoarse voice filled the room. “Do not kill him. We have questions.”

Kaoru wanted to laugh aloud. _Kill him?_ As is they could.

He heard a low, guttural growl as Okita tightened his grip on Kaoru’s throat. Through the fevered haze of flailing limbs, Kaoru picked up one distinct thought from his attacker.

_This kid tried to kill Hajime-kun. Now he has to pay._ That thought ran through Okita’s mind over and over and Kaoru felt a moment of fear before he sensed something else; cold fingers brushed Okita’s wrist and a voice called out.

“It is enough, Souji,” Saito told him, his eyes fastened on his best friend’s.

 


End file.
